"Why would an escorted classified document mention
"What's so special about this place?
"..."
One thought after another flashed through
At that moment, he felt the way one did just after relaxing from overusing one's brain, close to falling ill.
Wendel quickly forced himself to calm down and carefully retraced every experience since arriving in Utopia, only to find that the details of each event were entirely unremarkable — things one might encounter in ordinary daily life.
The only thing that unsettled him was that his arrival had been far too coincidental: Steam trains being temporarily halted by storms were common enough, but the fact that the station they'd stopped at was connected to the classified document in his hands was something coincidence alone could not explain.
Wendel stared at the classified document on the table with a grave expression, hesitating whether to open it and read it carefully.
Perhaps it merely mentioned "Utopia" in passing, and opening it would constitute a serious breach of internal discipline. Or perhaps this was a report from some intelligence operative who had secretly investigated "Utopia," and its contents would determine, to some degree, whether he survived or died... After struggling with the decision for a while, Wendel glanced at the deep darkness outside the window and reached for the document.
Only by staying alive could he worry about facing disciplinary action!
Having made his decision, Wendel swiftly tore open the outer paper envelope and began leafing through the typed documents inside.
As he read, his hands began to tremble slightly, and a chill ran up his spine that not even the coal-burning stove could remedy.
No matter how he interpreted it, the classified report in his hands indicated that there was something wrong with Utopia — something wrong with the entire town.
This might not be a town that existed in the real world!
Wendel's mouth went dry, and he felt as though he could hear Death dragging its scythe, slowly closing in on him.
His instinct was to leap to his feet, but in the end he restrained himself, refusing to react rashly.
This was because he sensed that outside the window in the darkness, in the rooms upstairs, in the corridors by the doors, pairs upon pairs of eyes were watching him.
What should he do? So far, nothing abnormal had occurred... which meant that if one knew nothing, it was possible to safely see the dawn... Many of the intelligence reports he had read indicated that openly showing awareness of the strangeness in one's surroundings would only trigger danger ahead of schedule... Yet he couldn't simply do nothing and leave his fate to luck... Recalling the various dangers he had previously experienced, Wendel quickly arrived at a decision.
He planned to return to the steam train immediately, to separate himself from Utopia to some degree.
—At least the vast majority of people there were normal, whereas the town was riddled with danger.
Of course, Wendel could not simply rush back. He had to appear sufficiently normal, giving the impression that he was leaving the hotel and heading back to the train station for some other reason entirely.
With his thoughts racing, Wendel tucked away the classified report, stood up steadily, put on his overcoat, and settled his hat in place.
Then, suitcase in one hand and umbrella in the other, he walked calmly to the door and turned the handle.
The corridor was shrouded in darkness, with only a few gas wall-lamps on either side casting a dim glow that lent a faint human touch to an environment so silent you could hear a sewing pin drop to the floor.
When Wendel stepped into the corridor, the wooden floorboards beneath his feet gave a slight creak — so pronounced in the utterly cold and still night that it carried far, far into the distance.
He furrowed his brow slightly and walked forward as casually as he could, approaching the staircase located midway down the corridor.
He walked without any attempt at concealment, with nothing furtive about his manner at all.
As the staircase drew closer and closer, a creaking sound suddenly came from behind him.
"S-sir, where are you… going?" A halting male voice reached Wendel's ears a moment later.
Wendel's body went rigid. He slowly turned around and saw the wooden door of the "service room" open as a attendant stepped out, standing in the shadows by the doorway.
He quickly put on a smile and said in a calm tone: "I left some important belongings on the steam train. I'm worried someone might take them, so I have to go back now."
At this point, he muttered a quiet complaint: "There's been a murder at this hotel. I don't want to stay here any longer — I simply can't sleep."
"My apologies." The attendant bowed slightly in response.
"I won't breathe a word of this to anyone," Wendel promised with a nod, and without lingering any further, he turned and headed toward the staircase.
Perhaps because the nighttime light was so poor, he walked with great care and caution, each step as if he were treading along the edge of a cliff.
One step, two steps, three steps… Keeping a constant watch on the attendant behind him, Wendel finally made it back to the ground floor.
The hotel lobby was completely deserted. Every object was shrouded in darkness, its vague outline caught by the faint light from outside — like monsters poised to devour anyone who drew near.
Wendel kept his gaze straight ahead, crossed through the dim lobby, and reached the front door.
The moment he pushed the door open and stepped out, he suddenly heard a rustling sound from behind — like rats scurrying about, or as if someone were approaching on tiptoe.
A chill crept across the back of Wendel's head, but he restrained the urge to break into a run and instead looked up at the sky as though nothing were amiss. The rain had already stopped.
Then he drew a breath of the cold, crisp air, oriented himself, and set off toward the steam-train station.
His pace gradually quickened — it looked as though he was rather frightened of the night and couldn't wait to bring this journey to an end.
As he walked, a signboard caught the corner of Wendel's eye: